


Enough

by AndWeMutate



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Depressed Peter Parker, Depression, Established Relationship, M/M, No Dialogue, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-29 20:40:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21416350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndWeMutate/pseuds/AndWeMutate
Summary: "What Wade doesn’t quite realize is that he keeps Peter grounded. He chases the monsters away when they overwhelm him. He does so much for Peter, more than enough, more than Peter feels he deserves, but in Wade’s mind, it’s not enough. It’s never enough."Peter sinks to terrifying lows and the person determined to lift him higher, above it all, is Wade.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 91





	Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpidarPool](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpidarPool/gifts).

> I enjoyed writing SpideyPool so much that whoops, I did it again, expect this one isn't smutty and fun and happy :) But yes, another SpideyPool piece and another thank you to Tara for always sending me SpideyPool art and gifs and memes when I'm feeling low. You're amazing and I love you so dang much.
> 
> Another 'this is PS4 Peter Parker' thing and ngl, after playing that game and seeing how it ended, the thought of depressed Peter Parker or even anxiety-ridden Peter Parker didn't feel like it would be too far off? I actually found some comfort writing this because I suffer from similar things so writing it, giving it a voice, was kind of cathartic. 
> 
> Sorry if this is a downer but to those who do manage to get through this, thank you. It really does mean a lot to me.

He tries desperately to pull himself together. Unable to be mended with tape or glue, he has to gather the broken pieces in his own unsteady hands and force them back into place. He has to pretend that everything is fine, force a smile through a clenched jaw. He has to smile or else his world would fall apart. If that happened, he fears rebuilding may be an impossible task. 

He obsesses and obsesses over the facade, how visible the cracks are. He wants nothing more than his happiness to be genuine but it’s a struggle. He’s been struggling for a little too long now and he often wonders if it’ll ever change. He tries to remember a time when his emotions were sincere, when they didn’t lie to him. He can’t remember when his happiness didn’t have an asterisk beside it, some sort of condition to make it so. He struggles and often times prevails. He’s a wonder, that Peter Parker, but he doesn’t know it.

Wade knows. He’s acutely aware. He finds it odd that Peter doesn’t realize how visible he is to Wade. Wade can see him falling apart and he watches with an overwhelming sense of helplessness. Even with an outstretched hand, Peter feels too far away to touch him. 

It’s bad tonight. Peter is distant and his thoughts are unkind. He can’t look Wade in the eye and Wade notices. He knows there’s something wrong, very wrong. Normally, he’d giving Peter a space, offer him a warm cup of something to ease the cold, cruel thoughts that seemed to blanket him, but tonight...Wade feels like he has to do something tonight. Instead of allowing the distance between them to grow, he sits beside him on the couch, hip to hip.

Wade gathers Peter into his arms, making sure every fragmented piece is accounted for. Without a single word, he gives Peter permission to fall apart. He resists at first, refusing to be overcome, not willing to let himself drown in feelings he lost the ability to manage. However, all it takes is Wade’s strong hand and a few gentle movements, his palm moving slowly across his back, fingertips tracing invisible patterns to sooth the tension in Peter’s body. That’s all. That warm feeling of connection, that overwhelming sense of dread...it all crashes down on him, all at once, and it weighs so heavily upon him. He can’t breathe. He can’t see. His entire world blurs as tears form at the corners of his eyes. He doesn’t try to stop them, not now. Instead, he allows them to overwhelm him, allows his sadness to win. He buries his face into Wade’s shoulder and screams, a guttural sound that’s only muffled by Wade’s gnarled body. He lets it all out in waves, large and uncontrollable, that only continue to crash against him with an intensity that causes Peter’s body to shake.

He feels so weak. Crying, trembling, a mess of a man...some “Amazing” Spider-man.

The thought is enough to send him four steps backwards. He quakes under the weight of his weaknesses, his faults, and he feels as though the entire world is pushing down on him.

Wade does his best, his damnedest, to lift Peter up, to force him above the looming darkness, but something keeps him trapped, struggling, fighting a war only he can see. Wade watches Peter throw wild punches at an unseen enemy and while he does his best to be the bodyguard, the guardian, he can only do so much. So, he watches. He watches and he waits until he can be of some sort of use to Peter.

What Wade doesn’t quite realize is that he keeps Peter grounded. He chases the monsters away when they overwhelm him. He does so much for Peter, more than enough, more than Peter feels he deserves, but in Wade’s mind, it’s not enough. It’s never enough.

The two remain at opposing ends, close enough but somehow still impossibly distant. The distance is all in their heads. It’s a cruel joke being played on them, to be so close and yet feel so far. It’s a vast expanse of darkness that exists between them and while Wade stumbles through, Peter cowers. Peter doubts he’ll be found. Peter laments. Peter continues his slow and painful descent. 

The tears slow but Peter fears they’ll never stop. He hesitates to look at Wade. There’s a pang of guilt that’s buried in his rib cage, making itself at home in Peter’s body. He feels like he’s made of paper, crinkled and torn. He’s so fragile, so damn weak, and he can’t control it. He can’t make sense of it. He wasn’t always like this, was he? He wasn’t always this fucking broken, this damaged?

He wasn’t always like this...was he?

Wade tries to soothe him but he’s unsure if it’s helping at all. Gentle words stem the flow of tears but Peter still shakes, still drips with a persistent, profound sadness that Wade can feel. It’s crippling from a distance and Wade’s immediately overwhelmed, unsure of how Peter’s still upright, still functioning, with all of this weight piled high on his shoulders. 

It takes a moment but Wade decides a more direct approach may be the better option here. As beautiful as soft and tender words were, Wade had to wonder if Peter could even hear him above all of the noise and static. He had to wonder if Peter could hear anything over his own crippling self-doubt. So, just to make sure, Wade had to be a little louder.

He gently, carefully, pulls Peter away from his shoulder and the sight before him is enough to break Wade’s heart a dozen times over. Peter looks defeated, completely and utterly subdued by that fundamental darkness that’s burrowed its way inside of Peter. It’s a slow and painful battle and in Peter’s head, he’s already lost, but Wade won’t let that sort of thinking take flight. No way in Hell.

Wade tells Peter firmly that he’s strong, that those fucked up voices in his head are wrong about pretty much everything and, most importantly, he loves him. He loves Peter so much, too much, and he refuses to let whatever lives inside of Peter’s head tell him otherwise. Fuck that. Without a quip, without a smart-ass remark, he spills his guts to Peter in hopes that he hears him this time.

Peter looks...overwhelmed, if that was even the word for it. Reading his expression proves difficult. He’s a blank slate and that makes Wade sad. Peter’s always so expressive, heart on his sleeve, light in his eyes, but now...he’s almost hollow. He’s letting those dark thoughts alter him slowly, whittling him down into faded shades of who he was. Wade hates it so fucking much but he’s almost powerless to stop it. He watches as Peter loses shade after shade, watches as he looks almost...puzzled, hearing Wade tell him something as simple as ‘I love you’.

He’s speechless. Fingers press hard into Wade’s body and Peter chokes on words that catch in the back of his throat. There’s a panic that arises, the inability to respond without the risk of more tears spilling down Peter’s face. He fights to steady his breath, hoping he doesn’t choke on each and every word he can’t say. He grips tighter to fabric, to skin, as if Wade’s the only thing in the entire goddamn universe keeping Peter connected to a world, a life, he feels so distant from.

He is and he will continue to be as long as Peter’s willing to put up with Wade’s shit. 

Wade’s sick of whatever is living in the darkest depths of Peter’s head, sick of all the lies it tells him. He’s not being loud enough. He’s not getting through and as frustrating as that is, he just has to be bigger, louder, than whatever voices are screaming within Peter. He has to get his point across. He has to scream.

So, Wade screams.

He tugs Peter into a clumsy kiss. Wade makes sure they connect, makes sure Peter knows he’s there and he isn’t going anywhere. Expecting Peter to pull away at the suddenness of the motion, Wade’s a little surprised with the needy lean Peter’s body adopts, bringing them even closer. He obliges without question, without hesitation, and holds Peter as if he’d disappear the moment Wade let go. Wade holds him tightly, proving to the world around them that Peter Parker was and would continue to be off-limits as long as Wade lived and breathed.

Which, by the way, he’d do for-fucking-ever if it meant protecting Peter from this cruel world.

Despite the nearly rabid need residing in Wade, one that pokes and prods at him to make sure Peter knew how loved and cherished he was, the kiss retains a sense of gentility. It’s a kiss that burns but in a different sort of way. It’s not a breathless battle of tongue and teeth, but a reminder of how their lips fit so perfectly together, how their heartbeats almost sync when they’re united.

What snaps Wade out of a sense of comfortable lucidity is the taste of salt. Tasting the tears on Peter’s lips alters something in Wade, forces him to recenter. He slides his tongue over Peter’s bottom lip, catching every last bit of the tears Peter had cried and reluctantly parts their lips. Peter’s flushed and puffy-eyed, lips pink and plump. Wade watches Peter attempt to catch his breath, struggling to make sense of the last few minutes. Before he can, however, Wade tells him to lay back.

Peter does not protest. He does as he’s told and yields to Wade. Heart still racing, mind still in knots, he watches Wade climb over him. Peter watches as Wade methodically removes their clothing slowly, as if savoring the action in its entirety. He shivers as calloused fingertips carefully move over warm skin. He sucks a breath in between his teeth, an intense chill rolling down the length of his spine while Wade explores familiar territory as if it were uncharted and new. Peter’s body speaks to him in hesitant whispers, guiding Wade and urging him forward. Every shiver is a cry for more, more, more and Wade obliges. He does so with vigor and a deep rooted love for Peter Parker, an unshaken devotion that drove him forward and a sense of loyalty that kept him close.

In a way, it feels like their first time all over again. Peter’s body tingles the same way and his blood feels like it’s boiling the same way. It’s only different because Wade’s not muttering feverish curses and crude compliments under his breath in between sloppy kisses. Instead, he’s taking his time, lips moving slowly and precisely pressing searing kisses everywhere he can. Though Wade often favors a quicker pace, wild movements attempting to keep up with whirring thoughts that refuse to slow, he finds himself content with this series of slow, methodical movements. He works his way down Peter’s body, skin warming beneath his lips. He’s working to memorize Peter all over again, every inch, every scar.

The breathless Peter Parker squirms beneath Wade, back arching, insides clenching. The world spins and fades in and out of existence. Each kiss sends Peter further from strife and sorrow, every minute beneath Wade making the world hurt just a little less. While his thoughts, invasive and persistent, attempt to distract him, pull him back into an inescapable darkness, Wade pulls him right back, back into intense sensations and boundless love.

Love. Exhausting, difficult, breezy, beautiful, terrifying love. It helps Peter breathe and attempts to strangle him all at once. It complicates things yet makes them so much easier. Love hasn’t always been kind to Peter, often leading to heartache and pain, but when it comes to Wade, he trusts the butterflies in his stomach and the stars in his eyes.

Their movements escalate but maintain that air of gentility and familiarity. Hands brush against bare skin and grunts and groans make the room feel like it’s buzzing. Peter presses his fingertips into Wade’s shoulder and Wade takes that as an invitation to continue. He doesn’t stop, not for a second. He’s determined to remind Peter in a very physical way that Wade could not and would not live without him.

They make love. Wade uses insistent, though gentle, hands as he explores Peter’s trembling body. He opens up beautifully beneath Wade, each thrust and every bit of pressure producing a heated reaction that only makes Wade press forward. He kisses Peter until his head spins and Peter wraps his arms around Wade’s neck, willing them closer as their bodies rock against each other feverishly. The room spins and sweat gathers at their brows but they are unbothered. Their focus is solely on one another.

In moments like this, when words drown in the sheer heat of it all, Peter feels closest to Wade. He doesn’t need to make sense of his wayward emotions or the occasional need to simply fade away. He doesn’t need to force a smile or arm himself with jokes or puns. Instead, he lets go and falls head first into the vast unknown, knowing only that Wade will be there to catch him if he should fall. He runs at full speed into darkness and Wade’s there with him, shoulder to shoulder. No matter how much life terrifies Peter, no matter how many shadows lurk within him, clawing at Peter’s sense of worth, he knows that he has Wade. He has Wade and his lame jokes and his perverted sense of humor and his love, God, his love. Peter has his anxieties and his apprehensions but he also has Wade’s love...and that was enough. It was more than enough. Even when it felt like it might now be, it was.

Their bodies move together, whispers and grunts of one another’s name escaping in the moments in between. Peter feels warm, too warm, but he’s content. Warm hands, warm bodies, they keep him grounded, aware and present. He’s not slipping back into self-deprecating thoughts and moments of weakness. He’s here. He’s here with Wade and for now, he’s okay.

Wade holds out for as long as he physically can. He wants to stay this close to Peter for as long as he’s able. He wants to hear him breathe, feel him twitch and just  _ be _ with Peter. His body clenches and jerks but he still moves inside of him. He doesn’t want to stop, not yet. He bites his bottom lip and sounds strained when he tells Peter he loves him. Fuck, he loves him so much. The words are enough to let loose what Wade fights against and breathlessly, he comes. He spasms and curses under his breath and his body comes to rest against Peter’s.

He pants and gulps down air hurriedly, Wade’s body tense and reeling. He looks down, considering a soft and witty comment to maybe make his itsy-bitsy laugh just a little, but what he sees is just the opposite; there are tears in Peter’s eyes.

Wade instantly panics. Had he hurt Peter? Did he not hear possible protests? He quickly looks over him and asks in slurred, startled words if he’s okay. Shit, is he okay?

Peter takes a moment to steady himself, even if the tears rolling down his cheeks are freaking Wade out. He swears they’re good tears, promises they are. He sees Wade’s cocked eyebrow and Peter tells him quietly that he’s crying because Wade loves him. Peter’s broken, a puzzle missing pieces, but Wade somehow still loves him. Somehow. Despite being complicated, weighed down by carts and carts of baggage, Peter is still somehow made light by Wade’s willingness to accept the simple fact that Peter was far from perfect and far from okay. 

That’s why he’s crying. Because he’s loved.

He’s in awe. He’s looking at Peter and falling in love all over again. He’s stumbling, tumbling, tripping over himself, so dizzy and so much in love with Peter that it hurts. Pressing both palms against either side of Peter’s perfect, tear-stained face, they just stare at each other, lost in one another’s glaring imperfections and clumsy smiles find their way across their lips.

They may not have chosen the myriad of anxieties that dug deep down beneath their skin and they may not have chosen the prolonged moments of self-doubt and the rest of those other ugly feelings.

But they chose each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Insert, as always, beta'd by me. I'm sure there's an error or six floating around but hey, I tried~


End file.
